


letting go

by neradia3



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 2008, Drinking, Episode 1x06, Episode 2x11, Fix-It, Gen, Missing Scene, Prom Night, Rehab, Rosa's art, Rosabel bonding time, idk which one it is but i feel like it's both, little bit of Rosa and Liz, looking at the past, past Isobel Evans, past Rosa Ortecho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neradia3/pseuds/neradia3
Summary: Rosa doesn't take her own advice.orIsobel finds herself in Rosa's art and learns more about what happened during her blackouts.
Relationships: Isobel Evans & Rosa Ortecho
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	letting go

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea for awhile now and I thought about writing it on multiple occasions, but then I decided not to (mostly because I'm currently working on a series). Then Carina tweeted about how there was a scene that was cut in 2x11 with Rosa and Isobel involving Rosa's art, specifically of Isobel, so I was like: well now I definitely have to write it. So here it is. Tada!

_"What're you looking for?"_

_"Myself, so-to-speak. I'm curious about what might be in there from the whole Noah thing."_

_"You can look, and if you see something that you want to know about, just ask. I'm probably gonna tell you to mind your beeswax, but you know, shoot your shot."_

* * *

They're beautiful, the drawings in Rosa's journal. No, sketchbooks. 

In some way, they all embody her. The art style bleeds Rosa Ortecho. Organic, real, emotional. Isobel can tell which ones were drawn while Rosa was high; they are messy, scattered, the words on the page practically scribbles. Lines are uneven, angry. No, raged.

She hears Rosa chuckle over her own art as she tries to figure out what was going on when she drew it. Isobel's eyes leave the sketchbook that's on her lap, which she closes, to look at Rosa. Curiously, she scoots to the other side of the couch where Rosa sits. 

"The first time I got high," Rosa says, her fingertips grazing over the page, over the various colors that mark it. "I was sixteen, I think. After homecoming."

Isobel frowns, aching to reach over and pull Rosa into her arms. She's been through some shit, and Isobel wants her to know that it's okay. But she decides to stay silent, unmoving, and let Rosa speak. 

"I remember Liz finding me on the roof of the Crashdown. I was passed out, pages of my sketchbook torn and spread out. She was so scared." Rosa shakes her head and flips the page. "Sorry. It's not exactly my best moment."

On the next page is a sketch of Liz; Isobel can tell at first glance. All around Liz's face are little spaceships and aliens with antennae, a callback to the Crashdown uniform. When Rosa drew it, Liz must've already been working at the Crashdown. Liz was wearing a set of her own antennae along with some of the uniform itself before it's cut off by the end of the page. Rosa even added the nametag. _Liz._

“When did you draw this one?" Isobel asks. "She looks so young here."

"She was fifteen, maybe sixteen." Rosa meets Isobel's eyes with her own. "I used to draw her a lot, mostly when she didn't know I was there. Or when she was working. I was off shift, sitting at the bar. She'd just served a table their orders, and yet she was too focused on grabbing the next order to notice that I was sitting there, drawing her, when she passed by. When I was drawing this one, it was actually the first time she said anything about it. And it was the last time I drew her, well... while she was working anyway."

Isobel giggles. "Siblings."

"Yeah, the absolute worst sometimes, right?"

"Yeah."

The two laugh, enjoying each other's company. Although Isobel has other motives for visiting Rosa, she is glad that she gets to spend a bit of time with her. She actually started to miss her after a few days of her being away--getting help and dealing with whatever food situation she brought up earlier.

Isobel almost forgets that she is looking for something in these sketchbooks. No, journals. No, sketchbooks. Yes, sketchbooks. She's interested in hearing more of Rosa's stories, and not just specifically about the times she spent with Rosa while Noah was controlling her. She wants to know the stories of each drawing regardless. That may just be the nosy side of her though. She's still learning how to be less nosy, less invasive. And she's been getting better. At least, she thinks she is.

Rosa turns to the next page. 

* * *

Maybe she hasn't been learning how to be less invasive, but Rosa let her jump into her head to see a memory of when she found out that Arturo wasn't her biological father. She consented, so not invasive, not forcibly anyway. 

Some time has passed since then, about an hour or two. Isobel lost track. Rosa is still on the couch, asleep. Two of her sketchbooks are on the coffee table, open to random pages. Isobel has the third. The fourth and fifth are still in the bag Isobel brought with her to hold the sketchbooks. The bag is from the Crashdown, the logo printed on the front in red. 

Isobel's sitting on the ledge before the fireplace, her back against the wall that framed it, her legs stretched out, the sketchbook on her lap. 

She carefully studies each of Rosa's drawings, the details that lay within them mostly for anything that might have something to do with their "friendship" back in high school. She hasn't stumbled upon anything yet, but there are two other sketchbooks she hasn't looked through. 

She reads and searches the writing on each page, on each drawing, wondering what Rosa was thinking about when she drew them. Of course, Rosa is fast asleep, and Isobel doesn't want to wake her unless she has to, despite her crawling curiosity. 

Rosa looks peaceful, her breaths steady as her chest rises and falls. Sometimes she snores, but not the loud annoying kind of snoring. 

Isobel smiles and hums as she moves on to the next page. And right as she realizes that she's staring at herself, her smile fades. "Oh my god."

Now she has a valid reason to wake Rosa.

But she doesn't. Or she internally fights with herself not to.

She turns the page instead. Another drawing of herself, but it's more sloppy than the last. She can say the same about the one after it. It's like Rosa's art is slowly deteriorating. That might be how she felt then, at least during the times when Isobel was actually Isobel. 

The next one really captures Isobel's beauty. It's happier than the last two, brighter in terms of the colors she used. Noah must've been Isobel when Rosa drew it. Words make up the ends of Isobel's hair:

_Stars and milkshakes._

_Red paint._

_Red is armor, but not with her._

Isobel raises her eyebrows. None of it makes sense to her. These words just seem random, but they definitely mean something to Rosa or she wouldn't have written them. 

_Clinging._

_Reaching._

_Never alone._

_Ophiuchus._

"Ophiuchus," Isobel repeats. Why is that so familiar?

She closes the book and gazes over at Rosa. At lot was on her mind. All of Rosa's focus was towards Isobel. It seems like, besides Liz and Arturo, that Isobel was the only person that really cared about her and, at the same time, didn't care about her "reputation." Isobel meant so much to Rosa. So much. She got all of that from her drawings. 

She leaves the fireplace, bringing the sketchbook with her, and slides the two sketchbooks on the coffee table aside so she can sit down in front of Rosa. She settles the sketchbook on her lap before leaning forward, resting a gentle hand on Rosa's arm. "Rosa?"

Rosa stirs and buries her face in the throw pillow.

Isobel sighs. "Hey." She strokes Rosa's arm. "I found something that I want to ask you about. You know, you said I could. Please."

Rosa rubs the sleep from her eyes and blinks up at Isobel. "It better be good. Good enough to wake me from such a nice nap." She sits up. There's a hint of glare in her eyes, but they soften once they meet with the sketchbook on Isobel's lap, specifically the drawing of Isobel that covers the page. "Oh, look at that. You found yourself. Mission accomplished."

"The sarcasm is really unnecessary, Rosa. I'm serious. Now, spill."

"You could've asked more nicely," Rosa says, and takes the sketchbook from Isobel's lap, setting it on her own. "What do you want to know about it?"

Isobel shrugs. "I don't know. Everything, I guess. There isn't just this one." She points at the sketchbook. "We must've been close."

"We were, I mean only when Noah..." She shakes her head. "When we'd planned to see _The Last House on the Left_ , and you had no idea what I was talking about, I was heartbroken. I thought, then, that you were playing with me, like I was some kind of toy. Or you were just... you didn't want Max to know that we were friends." 

"I know I had no control over it, but..." Isobel takes Rosa's hands in her own. "...I'm sorry. No one should have to go through something like that." She gives her a gentle smile, and Rosa smiles back. "If you don't mind, can you tell me more about those times, the ones I have no memory of?"

Rosa nods and pulls her hands out of Isobel's to flip through the rest of the sketchbook. All of those drawings are of Isobel. And despite that, they're all different. They all pour out different emotions, ones more joyful than others. The most recent one--Rosa knows because she dated each of her drawings in the bottom left corner--looks like it was Isobel on prom night in 2008. Isobel can tell by how her hair was drawn and the thick, orange-pink strap that crosses over her shoulder and diagonally down her chest. Her hand was also on the page, doused in red. 

Isobel remembers that; she woke up against the door frame of some kind of bus, red covering her hands, her dress. Her mom was so mad about that. It was a pretty expensive dress after all. 

Max and Michael thought that she was doing drugs with Rosa. They knew that Isobel was with her, the grafitti on the side of the bus proved it. Even though she told them that she had no memory of how she got there, they didn't believe her. 

"That's from prom night," she finally says. "Last year, Liz gave me some of the alien death serum antidote to help me remember moments that happened during my blackouts. I did start to remember spending time with you, Rosa. Drawing on the pillars of the gazebo in town, watching the stars on the roof of the Crashdown multiple times, planning to run away together. But everything after we left the Crashdown that night is... empty. What happened, Rosa?"

Rosa stares down at the drawing and exhales. "I can't believe I'm going to do this again. It's just easier to show you..." She takes off Maria's necklace... again, but Isobel stops her before she can place it nicely, stretched on the coffee table beside Isobel. "What're you doing?"

"Why are you so willing to let me jump into your head?" Isobel asks. 

"I just thought it could help you remember. Isn't that what you wanted? To remember, Isobel?"

"Yes, of course, but I don't want to invade _your_ memories in the process."

"You didn't seem to mind earlier." Rosa shrugs.

"I don't know. It feels... selfish, like I'm using you to help myself."

"Since when did you start caring about not being selfish?"

Isobel crosses her arms. "People change, Rosa. I know you've been dead for... a long time, but I'm not who I was in high school anymore. I've grown, a lot actually."

Rosa rolls her eyes. "Fuck. Fine, okay? I'll just tell you what happened." She goes to put the necklace back on, but Isobel stops her again. "What now?"

"I want to see it."

"God, Isobel. Make up your damn mind already." She finally puts her necklace down on the coffee table. "Jump in before you change your mind again."

Isobel reaches her hand out towards Rosa's, but stops herself this time, but stops nonetheless. Again. "Are you sure you want me to see this? It's okay--"

"Isobel, I swear on my empty grave..."

"Okay, okay!" She sighs and presses her hand into Rosa's. The two gaze at each other for a moment, before Isobel closes her eyes, entering Rosa's mindscape. 

* * *

Rosa led Izzie through the dark of Sander's Auto, their hands tied, giggles leaving their lips as they approached a bus. It was hard to see it in the dark, but Rosa said that she had a lantern inside. _I sometimes come here at night when no one's around. It's quieter, allows me to think, to do my art without any distractions. I've never brought anyone here before, so you're lucky, Izzie._

They stepped on to the bus, and Rosa showed Izzie around the small interior. Art supplies were scattered around, resting on and under bus seats. Among these supplies were graffiti stencils, ones that Izzie had seen before on the side of buildings and on the back entrance wall of the Crashdown. A six-pack of Brockman sat under the driver's seat, which Rosa immediately grabbed and brought with her as she cozied up in one of the empty seats in the back. 

Izzie watched her curiously as she popped open a bottle. "This is a weird place to hang out. I thought that turquoise mines was strange, but an abandoned bus?" She shook her head. "I guess that's the point, isn't it?"

"You bet." Rosa took a sip. "Cozy, right? Perfect hiding spot."

"Yeah." Izzie sat down in the seat across from Rosa, her back leaning against the wall of the bus. "Too bad there isn't a sunroof. The stars are beautiful tonight."

Rosa chuckled. "Don't worry. We have all night, and so much time to waste." She reached under the seat and lifted up some of her graffiti stencils, which she set beside her. She grabbed a box of spray paint too. When she opened it, Izzie saw that it only held two colors, red and black. 

"Nice color pallet," Izzie said with a smirk.

"Oh, I have so much more, but for this stencil," she held up one that said _We are all alone_ , _all_ replacing the _not_ , "I generally use black and red."

"Huh. No green?"

"No green."

* * *

Paint covered Izzie's hand, but she didn't mind. They'd just done some graffiti on the side of the bus together, and Izzie tried her best to avoid getting paint on her, yet she obviously failed to do so. Rosa got just as much on herself as Izzie did. She did all the spray painting, so getting paint on herself was inevitable.

And now, they were back on the bus, back in the seats they were sitting in before Rosa had tagged the old, painfully bright yellow vehicle. Rosa took out her sketchbook from her bag, along with a pencil, and Izzie just watched her, wondering what she was doing, what she was going to draw. _If_ she was going to draw. Maybe she wanted to show Izzie some of her art. 

Izzie left her seat and moved to Rosa's. She sat with her legs tucked under her as she peeked at Rosa's open sketchbook. "Gonna draw?"

"Maybe," Rosa said, flipping through to find a clean page. 

Izzie tilted her head as she got a glimpse of each page before Rosa turned to the next. From the bits and pieces of what she saw, she could make out a face. Her own face. "Rosa?" She put her hand on top of Rosa's to stop her from turning the pages. 

"Hmm? What's--" Rosa glanced at their hands, Izzie's on her own. She shook her head and looked at Izzie. "Yeah?"

"Are those... drawings of me? I mean, it's okay if they are, I'm just... I'm curious."

"Yeah, they are." Rosa pulled her hand out from under Izzie's and continued to find a blank page. "But, they're kinda personal."

Izzie nodded. "I understand. I won't prod."

"Thanks." She opened up to the blank page close to end of the sketchbook and studied Izzie for a moment. "Is it okay if I draw you?"

Izzie tucked a strand of her hair--that came loose from her very complicated bun--behind her ear. "I don't mind. Draw whatever you want to draw. It's your sketchbook after all." Hearing Rosa giggle, she lifted an eyebrow. "Wait, you mean now?"

Rosa only continued to giggle, but somehow got out a "yes" in between her laughs. Izzie joined in the laughter. 

Isobel watches herself and teen Rosa from the front of the bus, present Rosa standing beside her, their fingers laced. The duo must've had many moments like this, those filled with laughter and light-heartedness. She never really had friends like that in high school, just Max and Michael. Even then and the many good memories the Pod Squad had during high school, they were nothing like this. Although, it wasn't real for Isobel at least. She was gone then, in this moment. 

"I wish I was me, and Noah wasn't..." Isobel trails off. Feeling Rosa squeeze her hand encourages her to go on. "...controlling me like a fucking puppet."

"I know," Rosa whispers. "And even though it wasn't actually you, I still had someone to come to when things were bad, when I needed someone to talk to who wasn't my sister."

"If I wasn't such a bitch to you--"

"Stop, Isobel. Don't worry about it, okay? You can't go back and change that, as much as you want to. We have each other now, and that's all that matters."

"We do, don't we?" Isobel chuckles, and looks back at past Rosa and Izzie. Her eyes widen.

Izzie's hand was on Rosa's knee as she leaned forward to peek at what she had so far of the drawing. A smirk curled on her lips as she watched Rosa draw her eyes. When she lifted her head, their eyes met in a spark. Izzie was closer than Rosa remembered. Really close. She opened her mouth to say something, but Izzie cut in before she could. "I wanted to watch you draw, if that's okay."

Rosa nodded. "Yeah, that's okay. I wasn't going to say anything against it. I just realized that I've been coloring your eyes all wrong."

Her legs starting to fall asleep, Izzie pulled them out from under her and turned in the seat so she wasn't directly facing Rosa anymore. "What do you mean?" She leaned her head against Rosa's shoulder, looking down at the drawing, the start of another drawing of her. 

"In past drawings," Rosa flipped to a previous page, "I made your eyes brown, but they aren't brown. They're actually hazel, sometimes more brown than green and other times more green than brown."

"And what are they now?" Izzie asked, gazing up at Rosa. 

Rosa tilted her head, studying Izzie's eyes. It was a little hard to figure out with only the small light source coming from the lantern. The battery was close to drying out. "Can you sit up a bit? I can't—" She chuckled. "I can't tell."

Izzie did as she was told. "Better?"

"A little." Rosa set her pencil in the crease of the sketchbook and settled her fingertips under Izzie's chin, her thumb brushing her jaw. "Right now, I would say," she hummed, "more brown than green. No matter what color they are, they're pretty. I like to draw them, mixing different colors together, blending them." 

Izzie lowered Rosa's hand, taking it in her own. "You think so?"

"Mmm hmm."

Isobel hears present Rosa's breathing shudder and looks over at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm uneasy." She swallows, and whispers, "I don't think I can do this anymore." She lets go of Isobel's hand, pulling them both out of the mindscape. 

* * *

Isobel opens her eyes, and Rosa isn't on the couch. She's standing in front of the fireplace, her hands feeling the fire's heat. Isobel wonders why she let go. She didn't get to see what happened the rest of the night. And whatever did happen must bother Rosa. Maybe brought back some unwanted thoughts. 

She glimpses at the sketchbook on the couch, still open on the page which holds the drawing of Isobel, well Noah as Isobel, before hopping to her feet and walking over to Rosa. "What happened, Rosa?" she asks, now beside her like she was in the mindscape. "Why'd you let go?" Isobel goes to place a gentle hand on Rosa's back, but she jumps away, away from the touch. "Rosa?"

"Just go, Izzie, okay?"

_Izzie._

"You got what you wanted." Rosa's at the window, now her arms wrapped around herself, looking out onto the deck right outside. "You have no reason to be here anymore."

"Rosa..." Isobel is about to step forward, and Rosa must have eyes in the back of her head because somehow, she knows.

"I said, go!" She shakes her head. "Fuck, Isobel. Do you ever listen?"

Isobel whimpers, and despite Rosa's demands, she does take that step forward. "I'm not leaving you here. Not like this," she says, her tone soft and delicate like chimes on a breezy day. "I think it would be good for us to talk this out."

Rosa sighs, and Isobel has a feeling that she probably rolled her eyes. 

"For the longest time, I buried everything that happened that year so deep, so deep that it's become hard to dig it back up." She pauses. "I understand what you're feeling Rosa, trust me, but you can't shut me out like this. It won't be any better if you do."

"I don't care what you think, Isobel. Sometimes, what you think is good for us is only good for yourself." The lights above them flicker. Rosa's not wearing Maria's necklace. It's still on the coffee table where she left it before Isobel jumped into her mindscape. "You know what? You really are selfish, so fucking selfish."

"Rosa--"

"No," she snaps.

"Please."

"Leave, Isobel."

Not another word comes out of Isobel's mouth, but instead, there's footsteps, shuffling around the room. Isobel is probably grabbing her coat and bag and leaving just like Rosa told her to.

After a moment, Isobel's voice rings again, and Rosa just wishes she would just shut the hell up and leave her be. She remembers; Isobel never gives up. Isobel always has to be the one that comes out victorious. She has to say the last word.

"I said I wouldn't leave, so I'm not leaving." Isobel drops her coat on the couch and sits down. "I care about you, Rosa. You may not think I do, but I do."

Rosa peels her eyes away from the window and looks at Isobel. "Why?"

Isobel exhales. "Over the past few months, I feel like I've gotten to know the real Rosa. Fully and completely. And I hope that you feel the same way about me."

"I do," Rosa tells her. "I'm glad that we're friends, for real this time."

Isobel chuckles and holds her hand out towards Rosa. "C'mere." 

"Okay," Rosa mutters. She goes to the couch and takes Isobel hand, sitting down beside her. "I'm..." Isobel squeezes her hand, and Rosa lays another hand on top of her's, brushing the back of it with her thumb. "I'm sorry, for yelling at you. I know you want to know what happened, and I shouldn't have kept that from you. You have every right to know. It's just... now that you're here and you're seeing it too... There are some things that I wanted to keep buried for good." Her eyes start to water, but she tries her best to blink the tears away. "I'm scared, Isobel."

"What happened, Rosa? Whatever it is, you don't have to be afraid. I'm here."

Rosa nods and takes a shaky breath in and out. "I told you that your eyes were pretty, that I loved to draw them. You said I was pretty. Not just my eyes, but me as a whole. I didn't believe you at first. I thought that you only said it because I said it to you. I just laughed it off. But you did, you meant it. Then, you kissed my cheek."

Isobel raises her eyebrows, almost in a bit of surprise, but at the same time, she isn't surprised at all. Noah had feelings for Rosa. She felt it herself, all of this love and want, and this need to protect her no matter what. So everything that Rosa is telling her makes sense. "When I was using Liz's antidote to try to remember, I thought that I was in love with you because that was all I felt while I was with you--love. Of course, I later found out that it wasn't even me in the first place, that it was Noah... Sorry. There's probably more. Continue."

"I didn't mind it. It actually felt... nice. It was sweet. You rested your head back on my shoulder and watched me draw you."

"You said that you're scared." Isobel tilts her head to the side. "I'm not exactly sure how that qualifies as scary."

"That's not what I'm scared of, Isobel. I wouldn't have cared if you saw that part of the memory. It's the part when you told me that you liked me more than just friends and then proceeded to tell me that you were an alien and..." Rosa trails off, staring down at her lap. "I left you. I didn't say anything. I just left you. I left you alone on that bus and I'm so--"

"No," Isobel hushes, pulling Rosa into a hug. "That wasn't me. That wasn't me." She rubs Rosa's back. "You don't have to feel guilty for something that you didn't do to me. It's okay, I promise. I promise."

Rosa holds on to Isobel tightly, gripping on to the back of her zebra-stripe-patterned blouse. She doesn't want to let go, and Isobel must know that because she keeps holding her. 

The only thing Isobel is letting go of is the past. 

All of her focus is in the present now, how Rosa is in her arms, and the warmth that's piling up in her chest. She embraces it. 


End file.
